The Second Arrival
by Agent of Chaos 112
Summary: The light weight of peace has fallen upon Ylisse for two years, as of the day chaos begins to return to the world. Rumors of Robin, the Grandmaster of Ylisse, has returned ad is rallying a small army have been scratching at the corners of the continent. Within all this a young man with a dark curse begins a small battle against his fate, and the Grimleal wait. Rated T for paranoia
1. Prologue: Dark Premonitions

Prologue

The mask felt heavy in the hands of the young man; the polished slate of metal designed to be nothing more than a costume item had been repurposed, the symbolism of this seemingly meaningless item made his hands tremble with anxiety. He spun the mask in his hands, allowing it to slip through his fingers for a moment _perhaps it is not yet too late to flee _he pondered, the mask approaching the ground in that instant _to escape, run to the barren woods of Regna Ferox where no one could find me, and allow it to all fall apart_.

His hand moved to catch the mask at the sound of footsteps in the hall outside his room. _Coming up the stairs at the far end of the hall, two minutes_ his eyes began to wander towards the window _last chance to run _and then his eyes fell upon the setting sun.

A fatal mistake.

It began with the familiar shortening of breath, as though the air was that of the great mountains of Chon'sin _eighty seconds to recover and put on the mask_. He uttered a brief curse as a spasm in his left leg sent him stumbling forward; and again as one in his arm sent the mask clattering to the ground _forty seconds. _The spasms became more violent and he grew dizzy. He attempted to calm himself as his vision failed him, and hit the ground as he reached aimlessly at the edge of his desk in a futile attempt to steady him. _20 seconds_ he flailed violently on the ground, hitting his hand on a hard surface_. _A single image invaded his mind, a scarlet orb hanging high over a chaotic and vicious battlefield. _Ten seconds_, but these thoughts meant nothing to the now unconscious man.

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><p>Once the vision began he was able to confirm the obvious, the orb was most definitely the sun. The battlefield was at the base of a once lush but burning mountain, it was evening and his comrades stood beside him attempting to drive away the opposing force. He himself was occupied; parrying an onslaught of axe blows with his blade as his opponent blindly struck at him. The enemy was relentless; showing no sign of slowing or tiring, he decided to take initiative as his adversary launched an overhead slash. When he moved he did so with surgical precession and near perfect timing, executing first a powerful upward parry before rolling to the side and bringing down the warrior with an accurate thrust through the chest.<p>

The second foe arrived, and taking advantage of his momentary fatigue to charge him; thrusting a long lance roughly where his chest was, only to be thwarted as he turned and the tip struck only his heavily armored arm which he the used to ram hard into the assailant's chest knocking it to the ground. At this he noted that there was a certain difference about him, nothing terribly obvious, as he had no control of himself during the vision, and could not crane his neck to observe himself. They were little details such as how comfortably he held the blade that he had yet to master fit in his hands, how skillfully he deflected the enemy blows, and the force exerted on the second risen as he charged it that revealed how powerful he had become _surely with this strength, I could have saved my home._

He prepared to strike again before an ally rushed to brutally execute the monster, the **_risen_** so much like those that had attacked his home so many years ago. He had dispatched both foes unscathed thankfully, though these uncommon visions would not surrender him control, they would not similarly arrest his ability to feel pain. He turned to look at where both risen had fallen, their miasma already dispersing, no doubt to be recreated at the fell dragon's layer. _Pity on he who encounters the reincarnation of these undead soldiers_, he turned back towards the battle _it was fortunate they attacked me separately; otherwise I could not have dispatched the pair._

A single pair of risen, out of an army that stretched to the horizon.

He was interrupted from his thoughts as pain bore through his leg and he fell to the ground with a muffled cry, retaliating at the axe wielding risen that had swept through his legs with a horizontal slash that the risen neither saw nor recovered from as it fell forward, permitting him to grasp its axe and behead it. More approached as he saw a break in the line of defense rushing forward to claim his soul for their dark master. They did not get the chance.

A bright flash ceased their charge, and the sun bled crimson at the sight. He struggled to pick himself up, though the ground would resist, withdrawing from beneath him, and allowing him to fall into the abyss.

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><p>He was roused with a start by the sound of knocking on his door. <em>No time to flee, <em>he quickly rolled to the side where his mask laid undisturbed by his fit. Panic welled in his throat as he hastily attempted to place the mask on his face, struggling to secure it over his eyes; he quickly glanced to his door in panic. If anyone saw his face, his life was forfeit.

The first person opened the door, a new messenger surely, who thankfully let his eyes linger on the door handle after he opened it. He held his breath as the second person rounded the corner and released it as he recognized his loyal lieutenant. Then a third set of footfalls came from around the corner.

His lieutenant, Naga bless, had been the first to see him and react; deliberately stumbling into the young messenger sending them both into the ground flailing a leg out to knock down the third man: a grizzled veteran armed to the teeth, into the ground with his flailing leg. The commander quickly took advantage of the diversion to finish securing the mask, and rose to his feet and waited for the three to untangle themselves.

His lieutenant was the first to come free, remembering the purpose of the visit prior to the chaos "The Strategos have considered and accepted your suggestion" the man stated decisively "They request your audience for final adjustments and preparations. They would like to execute it in two weeks' time, specifically on the day of the Fell Dragon's war".

The tactician brushed a strand of silver hair over his mask and moved towards his bedroll and picked up the sword beside it, eyeing its ornamental design from the ruby in its wrist guard to the gold stretching a quarter up its blade, and eyed the sharp tip and pondered how a material could be so strong and yet so light. _Magic, of the most divine and powerful order, beautiful, but will poke a hole in you like nothing else. _He slowly rose and turned towards the door _It would seem destiny would see me onto this path. _

_Damned Destiny._

"It would appear that our bastard leaders possess a twisted sense of humor", he joked grimly, hardly a joke at all "Lead me to them, and let us see what is in store for us". He silently breezed past them, only his lieutenant was unfazed "As you will it, Sir Robin".

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><p><strong>AN: I've had this idea for a story for a while now, but I've only now decided to act on it. At any rate this is my first work of fiction, so please feel free to kick me around, really, I need to know how to improve my writing. In addition to this if anyone actually cares enough to review, please leave a rating on a scales from one to ten, this way I can get a good idea of which chapters are most popular and attempt to imitate them the closest (surprised most people don't ask this). I would like to post a chapter once a week, but junior year is leaving me rather drained so don't be surprised if it takes me two weeks to spit out a chapter. In addition to this I apologize in advance if things seem a bit technologically wonky, I have no idea what I am doing with this website and even struggled to put this chapter up.<strong>


	2. Chapter 1: The Edge of Peace

Chapter 1: The Edge of Peace

The entire castle had been bustling with activity, bust with the preparations for the upcoming anniversary of the Fell Dragons Fall. Finally, the god of destruction had been killed, and in celebration everyone was working hard for a festival like no other, acting with great vigor.

That is, everyone but the weary ruler, still mourning for the death of an advisory, a friend, and a brother. _Not death_ the ruler, King Chrom chided himself _Disappearance, he promised he would return, and no damned dragon is more powerful than that man's word, "god" or otherwise. _He began walking to his throne, allowing himself to slouch in the ornate seat in exhaustion.

The two years had taken their toll on the King, and not only due to his mourning. There was a governmental void where his tactician, Robin filled, laying out long and complex plans that would always succeed without repercussions. This was more than Chrom could claim, several plans he had had so far had backfired terribly, and his people payed for it. Despite these errors, Chrom had been a good ruler, but his mistakes filled him with doubt, doubt that at a crucial moment he would make an incorrect decision, doubt that he would ever be the leader Ylisse deserved, doubt that the man who he would have been proud to call brother, fell-blood be damned, would ever return.

Despite these doubts (or perhaps because of them) he reconvened with the Shepards 2 weeks ago on the tactician's "birthday", just as he had the year before, to hold a small party in his memory with the people closest to the man, and then embarking the morning after to instigate a month long search. Chrom of course, with the other nobles had been forced to return to Ylissetol to prepare for the celebration, abandoning the other Shepards scattered around the continent.

Upon his return Chrom was immediately burried in a plethora of paper work, meetings with fretting city planners, and swarms of helpless nobles. Frederick, to his credit had done all he was able to handle the situation, though the situations aroused more frequently then he could handle them. As soon as his loyal retainer would embark on an epic quest to resolve the kitchen's lack of pheasant meat, and in moments Chrom would be caught in an almost coordinated ambush of petty nobles.

The young King sighed, as a group of nobles attempted to squeeze through the Throne Room's doors, and the cycle began again.

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><p>Lucina was looking for her father upon the completion of paperwork she had been tasked with sorting, and unusual task for certain, but given the nature of said paperwork a completely logical decision. She had found her father in his throne room with Sir Frederick, door barred from nobles by two guards, whom upon recognizing her as the sister of Chrom allowed her to pass. She walked into the throne room undeterred and found the knight lecturing a slouched, groaning Chrom.<p>

"And for that matter, should an assassin impersonate one of our sold-" the knight was interrupted as Chrom sensed his daughter enter the room, frantically turning towards her.

"Lucina, do you have anything to report?" the King quickly asked her, his eyes pleading for reprieve from Frederick's speech. "The papers given to you were of the utmost importance, if you found even the slightest detail..." Chrom finished, not needing to plead any longer to get the message across.

"Yes, I have found several interesting facts in our reports," the young princess began, but tapped her foot on the ground several times and continued "it would probably be best if we discussed it over a walk", she decided, giving her father a lifeline to escape his loyal retainer.

Frederick, however, retaliated "Perhaps shortly, nothing comes before King Chrom's safety. We are currently discussing different attack scenarios should someone arrive at tomorrows event with... less than friendly intentions". Chrom placed his hand over his face and sighed in exasperation.

"Frederick" he said, looking towards the knight "I appreciate the lengths you are going to in order to protect me, but your current security is adequate. More than adequate really, Ylisse no longer has any enemies; Plegia is only surviving on Ylissian aid, khan Flavia maintains her treaty, and our spies in Valm courtesy of Rossane and Chon'sin indicate no ill will from across the sea"

The knight retaliated again "Ylisse has no **known **enemies" he corrected "Enemies are made and defeated everyday, we must exercise caution, especially given the purpose of tomorrow's event. Think for a moment Sire, what of your family? Little Lucina, Sumia, Cynthia, your sisters?" Frederick was almost screaming now, memories of Emmeryn's sacrifice besieging his mind. "Would you so easily forfeit your safety?" said quietly, said, stability partially returning to his voice.

Chrom looked inwardly for a moment in guilt, his knight had been prone to outbursts ever since they had found Emmeryn barely alive wondering towards the capitalwith amnesia only eight months ago. It was to much for the knight who had once loved her. To watch her jump to her death to save her nation was bearable, it was Emmeryn being the person that devoted herself to others, sand he had devoted himself to in turn. He could put his thoughts of her at rest.

But seeing her again had stirred too many unwelcome memories. Her current situation was not promising, she was very fragile. He was glad she had survived, but she was living proof that the knight had failed, and though he would never admit it, they all knew it broke something inside the knight.

Chrom's thoughts turned back to his own predicament. Frederick was correct, he was acting selfish, and knew Lucina had agreed with the knight from the moment he pulled the "family" argument. Chrom thought again about his sister's and his tactician's sacrifices, and how much it hurt when they died for a cause, he could not imagine the suffering of knowing someone died because the were neglectful. Without a single ally in the room Chrom surrendered.

"I apologize, Frederick. I allowed the stress of current events to hamper my judgment. You are correct, we must take every possible precaution. I could not bear to put anyone through that pain, we have lost enough people to war." Frederick regained his stoic composure, but was visibly grateful, and Lucina nodded in approval.

"Thank you for seeing reason my liege, the entirety of the halidom depends on you, there is too much to lose." Frederick said, relieved that Chrom had begun taking his safety more seriously "I will attempt make this brief." He said, and turned addressing Lucina "Lucina, please relieve guards by the door and make sure that we are not disturbed, it is critical that our plans remain secret."

Lucina nodded, put at ease by the knights dedication to her father. "Thank you Sir Frederick for your dedication." before turning away and headed to the chamber's exit. She turned as she exited the door and said "My report awaits after your discussion is complete.", and with that, she exited the chamber.

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><p>It was nearly half an hour before Chrom exited his chambers, which all things considered, was much shorter than either person had anticipated. True to her word, Lucina remained at his door when he walked through the exit, the Falchion at her hip and standing straight in an attempt to intimidate any passerby.<p>

"Perhaps now would be a good time to give the report that caught you eye" said Chrom as he walked past his daughter, who followed behind him.

Lucina removed several papers from her cloak and looked at them before speaking "Only a handful of rumors, but the odd thing is how they had traveled"

Chrom nodded slowly given the evidence "It is better than nothing, we have no leads regardless, even if they are baseless rumors"

Lucina nodded "There are two rumors in particular that seem interesting. The first was reported by Kellam about a man in south west Ferox is gathering a small army, they say he came from the east and was dogged by a feared group of bandits. The bandits ambushed him and a small group of his men while he was at an inn. He rallied his men and the villagers and defeated the brigands with superior tactics."

Chrom merely shook his head "Not a chance, I would never have a tactician who would consider going to the village if there was a chance that bandits were following him." Chrom sighed "He wouldnt want to put innocents at risk"

Lucina continued "The second is about a man killing Zanith the Pirate king west of Plegia. He supposedly lead a small group of powerful warriors against him, utilizing advanced tactics to defeat the group. One particular trick is interesting; he filled the ship he arrived in with oil and set it on fire as he docked to destroy the port and cut off escape."

"Quite similar to what had occurred back during the Valmese invasion..." Chrom pondered, looking down on the ground in thought "Definitely the more likely of two scenarios, we'll have to send Lissa out as soon as this party is behind us."

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><p>While Frederick would usually take care of Emmeryn, he was occupied helping Chrom to prepare for tomorrow. As a result Sumia volunteered to watch over Owen so that Lissa could watch over her sister.<p>

Emmeryn, had in fact recovered a great deal since they first encountered her. She had been found in the same clothes she died in, wandering through Ylisse and passing through the capitol's gates mute and with no recollection of her past (needless to say, the unexpected visitor caused quite the stir). Now she showed much more awareness to her surroundings, she could speak (albeit barely), and even wandered around the castle some days, calling out people by name.

Despite all this however, Lissa was sad. Emmeryn still for the most part had no recollection of what had happened to her, and names seemed to be the extent of her knowledge concerning other people. And that was on a good day, on a bad day, she mostly mumbled nonsense.

Which just so happened to be a day like today.

Today's phrase happened to be "The Dawn of War", repeated again and again as she laid in here simple bed. Lissa pondered it for a time after arriving, it was ominous to the extreme, but she decided it was either a reference to the Fell Dragon's Fall or complete nonsense entirely.

"Emmeryn, calm down" Lissa half pleaded her sister, still disturbed by her condition "There is no war anymore, its all safe now!"

Lissa's outburst had proven to be enough to shake the former exault from her stupor, as she suddenly looked towards her panicking sister's face and tried to speak, managing "You're... Sad"

Lissa grew silent as she felt tears well up in her eyes "W-well of course I am, it's just... different from how it used to be is all"

Emmeryn slowly shook her head "No... Not about... me." she managed "Is it about... the war? Did someone you know... die?"

Lissa relented "yes..." Tears starting to escape her eyes.

In a rare moment of recollection Emmeryn pressed the matter "Was it... Robin?"

Lissa stopped trying to hold back her tears and sobbed openly embracing her sister "Y-yes"

Emmeryn returned the hug and said "It's okay, d-don't... cry"

Lissa eventually came to the realization that she could mourn for her husband forever, but it wouldn't help find him. She could only keep doing what she was doing, investigating her brother's leads, and keeping in mind all the things she could show the big doofus when he returned.

Lissa stopped crying, and for the first time she realized in her heart, that her big sister had returned.

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><p><strong>Holy wow that was depressing. Did not really see the story take such a dark turn. So at the last minute of the weekend after being hounded by homework, tests, and quizzes, I finally came forward with... a half decent filler chapter. Ok, not exactly a filler chapter, every topic discussed does play a role in the story, it just doesn't look like it, and the party is going to play a significant role in the story, I just had to through in a chapter before it to explain the situation. Reminds me I need to explain some things.<strong>

**a. Owen is present Owain, not the most difficult concept, but I figured both would play a role in the story and wanted to find a way to avoid confusion.  
><strong>**b. Lucina I feel is going to play a vital role in the story, so I put her in charge of Robin's search. In order to justify here presence I stuck with the generic "Chrom's bastard sister" explanation being used.  
>c. Emmeryn's appearance was mostly just an improvisation. I had a feeling I wanted to throw her somewhere in the story, so while I was working on the 2nd draft of this chapter I found a purpose for her (though I usually ship Frederick and Cordellia, this is most likely NOT going to include romance to any mentionable extent so I decided to heck with it) . I decided that if Emmeryn evaded the Grimleal a little longer then she would have been saved once that they were all um... donated to Grima.<br>**

**At any rate I decided that the pairing is going to have robinxlissa, (partially through bias and partially because I thought of some really cool ideas with this) though it will be more like an after thought, I'm taking more of a Tales JRPG sequel approach to this fic. **

**I'm sorry for two things: A) an excessively long AU, and B) If this story seems as enjoyable as a faceful of rotting manure. This is still my first fic and while I was planning it I had not accounted for the first few chapters, so I am to a certain extent flying blind. That said I would really appreciate advise, criticisms, and just flat out insults pertaining to my writing. Also, if it is not too much to ask for please leave a rating on a scale of one to ten, as well as what I could do to bump it up a point. **

**That's really it, I really appreciate anyone reading this story, have a nice night (or day wherever you are), and may your chaos be the fortunate variety. **


	3. Chapter 2: Falling Shadows

Chapter 2: Falling Shadows

Well its been a while. A long while. I have many perfectly legitimate for delaying updates, but you aren't here for those

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><p>The young silver haired man stood at a small table amongst numerous nobles, With armor that would be akin to a knight, a large heavy chest plate protecting the front and back, his legs, and his shoulders were protected by similar metal plates. His sword lay in its scabbard, revealing only its ornate pommel, his dark cape did not quite reach the floor, but provided a regal look and- but of course, his mask was present on his face, diligently guarding his eyes from the looks of others. It was wonder no-one had yet to question his odd appearance, perhaps they saw him as a higher class knight or lower class lord, most likely the latter. He would attempt a joke to the crowd he found himself within on occasion, and mumble half-hearted agreements to their complaints, and in return, they would give him anonymity.<p>

The parties that the exalted bloodline threw had a certain endearing quality to him. The normal nobles parties seemed to be intolerably dull and baffling. Most nobles could not see far past their noses or here anything further from them than their own voices, insufferable as they were, worse still were the cunning nobles whom plotted in constant bids for power and fortune. There was, most of the time a silver lining: intelligent nobles whom had not a foul motive but would attempt at intelligent conversation- and he had talked to several such individuals and enjoyed the uncommon break of silence immensely on multiple occasions, but most times he was an invader, not a guest, and such barred him from speaking oft to these people. In truth, such celebrations left him bored to the point he had come to a decision to stop attending.

Then he went to a party shortly after King Chrom's coronation. It was much different, for starters the commoners would party in the castle courtyard, with food and drink provided by the halidom. Nobles were usually indoors, with doors barred against the common men, but occasionally a noble would enter the courtyard and celebrate alongside the peasants, it was quite amusing to watch. Then there were a select few soldiers from the King's own army that were present despite nobility or lack thereof. They were terribly undisciplined, which made it interesting to watch the strange warriors mingling with the oft horrified nobles.

Then there was the matter of Chrom himself. Chrom was to a great extent unpredictable and easily moved by emotion. He had been in the courtyard observing the party when he recognized the young ruler drinking and singing alongside his subjects, and he had even been moved by the man's jolliness to join min celebration himself. Of course then everything went terribly wrong, a surly man whom clearly had too much to drink began to yell ignorantly at the king, and even pushed him into a wall. It did not end in guards, but with a barrel that Chrom bashed over the surly mans head. Before retreating into his castle, no guards would come for the aggressor later, but the Exalt earned his respect.

The masked man brought himself back to the present and brought the glass of wine in his hands to his lips. He had his own mission, no time to reminice the silly antics that had stopped coming two long years ago. He finished the glass, and then left the table.

* * *

><p>All things considered, the party had been going well in Lucina's opinion. All the food was present, the guests were accounted for, and Chrom had not broken anything yet.<p>

That said a good party run by nobles was still a party run by nobles: gilded in bright colors and luxuries but at its core dull and cold. Of course such parties did have their advantages as she heard from Maribelle: they were usually a chance to acquire powerful friends and pave the way for future political breakthroughs.

Lucina wore the same armor that she had worn two years prior, as did all the knights and Shepherds that participated in the previous war. Even Chrom wore the same ornate white armor he had worn during the Fell Dragon's war, though his arm and scabbard remained bare, as both the Falchion and the Fire Emblem lay in the royal vault. Lucina's own armor was a show of importance, unlike most unarmored nobles in the room it was proof that she was a veteran of the war, and made her worth attention.

This fact facilitated the course of her goal. Nobles, though at times ignorant and foolish, still had eyes and ears. Gossip spreaded fast in the court, and every inch of gossip held a bit of truth, the difficult part was picking it out and making the connections.

"If there is something you would like to know, you could just ask."

The voice gave Lucina pause. Surely the voice was not directed towards her.

"Yes you, blue hair" the cool voice cut through her thoughts and she searched the room for a moment before locating its source. She found it, as a young silver haired man seated at a table with a cup of wine in hand looked in her direction and absentmidedly kicked a chair adjacent to him for her to sit in. She approached the man cautiously, sizing him up as she walked. He wore a mask not unlike the one she had worn four years prior, also sporting ornate armor and platinum blond hair that clung to his head.

As she took her seat she initiated the conversation "And who sir, might you be, and what questions do I have that you could answer?"

The man merely rose the glass in his hand to his lips a moment before responding "Just an obscure knight whom everyone either never meets or doesn't bother to remember." He replied, a joking tone in his voice "As for the second question, that depends on what you ask. Your armor is beautiful, but worn, so I assume you were fighting as a Shepard in the Fell Dragon's War?" He did not wait for her response to continue "And when you looked at me you seemed to have a recollection of sorts, which I would have to assume would be my odd hair color?" He paused a moment allowing Lucina to nod in response.

"Silver hair is not unheard of, but certainly rare. I can think of one such person who would be acquainted with a Shepard's veteran" he stated casually "Then perhaps you are attempting to find a certain legendary tactician?"

Lucina nodded, unfazed by the man's over-dramatic interrogation "Ylisse's Grandmaster has been missing for two years as of this day. Lord Chrom has reason to believe that he is still alive, and he would be instrumental in rebuilding Ylisse" Lucina justified, to which the man nodded slowly in agreement.

"That said, Ylisse is very well off. The king is not perfect, but he certainly has proven competent, and I do not hear of any wars brewing. Perhaps then this search is more of a personal matter to his lordship? Unless of course there is a war coming. And perhaps the rumors are true after all."

Lucina's mouth hung open for a moment before she spoke. After a moment of silence among the festivities she spoke "And pray tell, are any of these rumors worth mentioning?" She asked, her calm demeanor bending slightly "and how would our favorite masked enigma be involved?"

For the first time the aforementioned masked man did not know what to say, so Lucina pressed harder on the subject "You claim you called me here to give answers, and yet have not yet done so. If you truly wish to help, then why is it you wear that mask. What is the masked hiding?"

He reacted with a measured calmness "Many people could be asked the same" He responded slowly "I recall seeing a man in pitch black armor wearing a far more intimidating mask than mine here, no doubt one of your acquaintances from the war. I also recall a similar story where a masked warrior with blue hair saved each member of the royal family." he continued, a knowing smirk inched across his face. "Pray tell, do you know anything of this mysterious 'swordsman'?"

"As for the question you have not yet asked" he continued, not waiting for her to respond "I assume that you have heard of the fall of the Sea King. The rumors are true, he was defeated by the man you were looking for, either that or an identical twin with an ornate sword, purple cloak, and knack for tactics" a brief moment of hope shone in Lucina's eyes, as he took another sip from his wine. "And the question you did ask on the other hand, well, rumors of shadows of armies rise and fall every day, but this one came from a very reliable source." He paused again, as he sipped from his wine, before continuing.

"On my way here, I was forced from the main road to the capital by a group of bandits, and I was forced to take a path through the woods, wound up lost, and found myself late for this party." the knight said "while I was wandering I saw what appeared to be a large group of people, armed to the teeth and marching with purpose towards the capitol."

"How far away are they, and how many?" Lucina questioned "What colors were they wearing?" she added thoughtfully, her thoughts jumping towards the Grimleal, as rumors of fanatical survivors persisted, and even the Red Bull had been tracking bandits believed to be associated with the dead god.

"From there it took me about an hour to get here, so I would say half that" he explained, scratching at his chin in thought "I saw about two score soldiers, none of which were wearing any uniforms or flying any banner. That said I have cause to believe I only saw a vanguard, There were easily enough tracks to account for ten score."

"Ten score?" Lucina asked, slightly panicked. They had a standing city watch of only three dozen, and if this was the case the city guard had to be roused, and then the barracks. "Why did you not inform us sooner?"

"Look around you" the knight gestured around the room "Ignorance is bliss, especially when amongst this many nobles. I tried to get your attention in an inconspicuous manner to avoid starting a panic. Surely enough you can rally the guards, I would recommend you do so now, I would also recommend rousing your king as well. I only saw a select few of the group, there are many other possibilities" he paused again, to finish his drink "You may need him to negotiate, their intents may be peaceful in nature. But I am assuming the worst."

With that sentence the princess left, and she would not know it, but the young silver haired youth allowed himself a sad smile. He placed his now empty cup upside down on the table, and turned a small triangle shaped pastry towards the head of the room. His mission, for now at least, was nearly complete.

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><p>A bit short and rough around the edges, I meant to further edit it but current events and unanticipated twist and turns put a wrench in my schedule and have forced my hand. I will not be able to update for a week, or write for that matter, but thankfully I have the next chapter ready to go, expect it next Saturday. I am short on time so I bid you good day.<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: Confrontation

Chapter 3: Confrontation

The rhythm of heavy footsteps could be heard in the hallways of Castle Ylisse as Chrom and his royal guards, the latter composed of a couple well armed knights and Fredrerick, maintained a brisk pace to the Royal Vault. Their course was clear, and their movements determined, as they moved onwards to the Falchion and the Fire Emblem.

Chrom had been shocked by the news he had received from his daughter of the force approaching the capital, and had agreed to ready for negotiation, but had set off to the treasury, in preparation for the worst. Frederick, though correct in his overzealous caution, did not feel very much like celebrating, and his caution held even then, with the threat exposed.

It was not long before their feet carried them to their destination, the small group stopping before the two treasury guards, armed with both sword and shield, and they stepped aside to allow the Exalt to open the door. Frederick meanwhile, wary and proud, was already giving orders to the few guards at his disposal "Stay twenty paces from the door of the treasury, remain vigilant of anyone who passes. You two" he pointed towards the guards he arrived with "If anyone comes through this hall, turn them away." Frederick then towards the other two who both flinched as he eyed them "should they be assaulted, remain here and guard Chrom."

As Chrom continued to unlock the door, Frederick felt the cold weight of suspicion grow heavier in his stomach. As he watched the two treasury guards, something about the situation was not fitting together. One shuddered as Frederick examined him, the other cast nervous glances between the knight and Chrom his hand twitched near to the sword at his side.

His left hand twitched near his sword. His shield rested on his right arm.

There were no left handed guards in the palace.

The significance of this subtle movement struck Frederick just as his liege stepped into the vault. He quickly reached for his sword, and readied his lungs to cry a warning. But when he was ready to call out, he found no words in his mouth, but a dull pain in his in his chest where his lung resided. Frederick dropped his hand from the scabbard, abandoning the silver blade, and weakly reached for the area of pain as he looked down. The agent of his wound greeted his vision as he softly and silently dropped to his knees, a black bolt of lightning dripping with dark miasma sticking out of his chest.

Frederick felt gravity pull him to the ground and heard footsteps to his side in the growing darkness, moving past him even as the knight still struggled silently, his heavy armor would not make sound as he fell, the noise would be softened by the carpet on which he resided.

The sound of steel being drawn brazened Frederick. His lord was in danger, and he could not fight for his leige, but he may yet be able to warn him. He he rallied what remained of his strength; not enough to fight or speak, his vision failed, but his hand found its way to the scabbard that he had previously abandoned. Using what remained of his strength he drew his weapon and hurled it into the nothingness, and was rewarded for his effort by a loud crash, as the silver blade collided with polished stone. With the last of his energy spent, he allowed himself to fall into unconsciousness. He had done all he could, the rest lie in the hands of his lord.

* * *

><p>Little did Frederick know of the extent of chaos his intervention would cause. Chrom had just placed the Falchion in its scabbard and was securing the Fire Emblem on his arm when he became alert at the sound of a loud clattering in the halls.<p>

"Frederick?" Chrom called, the hall remained silent for a moment, and then a series of loud crashes rang out through the hallways. Chrom cautiously secured the last strap of the Fire Emblem and drew the Divine Dragon's Fang, swinging it a few times experimentally before stepping through the vault door.

Chrom did not know what to expect on the other side of the door, but he most certainly did not believe the sight that met his eyes. His Royal Guards had weapons drawn and shields raised- defending their lives from the two treasury guards who beat against the defending guards shields relentlessly with their own weapons. Frederick lay on the ground in front of the entrance, still.

"Hang on, I'm coming!" Chrom bellowed, as he made as to move into the fray, intending to assist his guards.

The guards however, would never receive his help. As he dashed into the hallway a, Chrom detected motion on his left and barely rolled forward quickly enough to spare his head the blunt end of a lance. Chrom instinctively followed up with an upwards slash in retaliation, but it only carried through thin air as his opponent skipped back several feet, the beginnings of a dark spell forming in his palm as he held his own long weapon in one hand.

Chrom was too slow in rising from his roll to avoid the bolt of dark energy that followed, but doing so proved unnecessary. The magic soared through the air like an arrow, but halted when it neared the lord and dissipated abruptly, stunning Chrom's opponent with surprise.

Chrom was the first recover, utilizing his crouched position to spring high in the air, bringing down his blade in a powerful downwards slash that was blocked by the intended target as he brought his weapon above his head, holding it in both hands before knocking the blade away forcefully before preparing a diagonal strike onto the joint in Chrom's armor where his arm met his shoulder. But as Chrom moved to parry the enemy pulled his weapon back, following up the feint with a powerful jab that Chrom quickly redirected Falchion to intercept.

Chrom allowed himself a small grin as the end of the lance caught itself in the hole of Falchion's cross-guard. His opponent hesitated with surprise and found himself stumbling aside as the royal yanked his sword to the side, sending him into Chrom's armored fist. The blow struck his opponents armor doing little lasting damage, and he managed to hold onto his weapon, but the punch sent him reeling giving Chrom some much needed room to size up him up.

His armor was similar to that of a knight and even more so to that the future child Gerome wore; sporting a thick plate covering his abdomen, with several small plates distributed around his body. Unlike Gerome's however, it was obviously more ornamental, the plates were a dark shade of blue, with silver lining the edges and making up elegant symmetrical patterns. A sword lie in its sheath by his side untouched, but the weapon in his hands was not a lance as Chrom first assumed, but rather a long staff forged from darkened metal. His opponent's eyes were covered by a half mask, also similar to Gerome's, but more similar to Lucina's, all of the above was contrasted by his unique platinum blond hair over the top of his head and pale skin peeking around his mask.

"You won't win" Chrom said simply after taking in his opponent "You are outmatched and deep within this castle, surrounded by guards. It is not too late to surrender, yield, and we may show mercy".

"Perhaps, but alas we cannot yield." the young man responded dejected, but his voice held a certain determination "But you can. We come for the Fire Emblem, and I know that your choice in nearly absolute certainty, if you were to surrender it to us, we may leave in peace, otherwise, we must fight for possession."

"The Fire Emblem is an artifact of unimaginable power" Chrom declared. He moved his sword into a position to thrust should the man move. "I cannot leave it in the hands of a stranger, much less one whom has invaded my castle and attacked me for it. But if it is a fight you want, I may provide."

"Very well then, prepare yourself Lord Chrom" the platinum haired man warned, as he brought his staff into a defensive position.

Chrom acted first, lunging forward, determined to cover the dozen paces between him and his opponent to bring Falchion through his heart. His opponent was at the ready, another small spell in one hand as he held the end of his staff in the other. He swung his staff sending a wide arc through the air that forced the opposing lord to duck or be knocked off course, and though Chrom lost momentum, his arm was within a second of striking after the dodge.

The spell hit the ground in the instant before the man would have found himself impaled. The spell was not offensive as the last one, rather a dark fog covered their circumstantial arena, and though it gave Chrom a wide berth as the last spell did, it proved sufficient to blind the swordsman who was already fully committed to the attack and unable to stop.

His reckless charge halted when he felt the end of the staff in a vulnerable portion of his stomach, knocking him back. Next came a grab at his hand, and he felt the Falchion forced from his grasp as his opponent twisted his arm behind his back. Last came a swift kick behind his knees, and he buckled as his legs hit the ground.

The smoke cleared after what seemed to only be an instant, and Chrom was dismayed to find that both of the Royal guards had been disarmed by the two spies, and were being bound with ropes by another pair that had appeared during his duel.

Chrom ceased struggling against the grip when the left handed guard from before walked over, flanked by his comrade and held his blade level with the lord's neck. His captor released the king, forcefully, pushing him into the ground and joining his soldiers to Chrom's front, leading the guard to retract his sword. The masked man, seemingly the leader held out his hand "Yield, pass over the Fire Emblem, no one would fault you for the loss."

The blue haired king slowly rose from the ground unopposed shaking his head "I would blame myself. The Fire Emblem holds the power to bring about forces powerful enough to either save or destroy the world, forces difficult to understand and impossible to control. I cannot surrender it, not even now".

The leader scoffed "Blame yourself?" his demeanor softened instantly "You fought well, and there were no ways to anticipate this. Hand over the emblem, you have done all you can".

Chrom glanced to where Frederick lay silently, and the sword near the vault, a mere ten paces away. He looked towards his guards, badly beaten and bound. He found his mind wandering towards the three wars he fought in to keep the emblem, the men whom he killed because their leader wished to obtain it. His mind wandered to the man whom had sacrificed himself to neutralize the damage, and make amends for the first and only time the Lord lost it, giving his life to bring an end to an evil that had Chrom been more diligent, he could have prevented.

Now the very item that nearly brought about Armageddon was being contested for again. His guards were beaten and bound, Frederick wounded and still on the floor. He looked back towards the man who instigated it all, demanding power that could destroy the world with his seemingly kind words. His decision was made.

"Not yet" He muttered under his breath, luring his captor a steop closer to hear, drawing him away from his comrades.

"I apologize, come again?" he asked. The lord discretely felt for the concealed dagger hidden in his cape, the very one that Frederick had insisted he bring the day before as a security precaution. "I said not yet!" he bellowed lunging forward.

Chrom, while not having fought a battle since Grima's defeat, still trained regularly, and maintained his right as one of the most powerful warriors on the continent. While his adversary was quick on his feet, between his shock and the former's speed he was unable to avoid the dagger that was aimed at a gap in his armor, nor could he avoid the subsequent armored shoulder that sent him stumbling back.

Chrom was in motion instantly, rolling away from the two remaining soldiers as they brought their weapons to bear, and sprinting to the silver sword the captain of his royal guard dropped in a gambit to warn his liege. Now armed, Chrom was dismayed as he turned back towards his opponents. His dagger lay on the ground, dry of blood, and each soldier stood in the way of his escape adopting defensive stances.

Chrom proceeded with an unbridled fury. Falling into several complex forms he beat relentlessly away at the three assailants and forced them back with each swing, each roar leading the two guards to flinch.

However, their leader seemed to account for even this eventuality. The two men were left handed and right handed respectively, and held their shields on the group's outward flanks making horizontal strikes negligible, while their leader held his staff in front of him with both hands protecting them from vertical and diagonal slashes.

Chrom's onslaught slowed. Unlike the falchion, blessed by Naga to restore his strength when he called upon it, Frederick's sword held no enchantments. Chrom had neglected to use his advantage in the previous engagement and the cumulative efforts were wearing him down, a fact both sides were privy to. If Chrom wished to escape, he would need to win quickly.

Chrom began to slow his attacks as he probed for weaknesses, inadvertently fooling the two flanking guards to grow haughty and careless. Chrom fell back into his forms, using a variety of attacks that fit together to search for a flaw in their technique.

There, The right handed guard angled his shield outwards slightly whenever he pushed back an attack. Chrom continued the technique, biding his time for the correct opportunity. 3...2...1...Chrom executed his plan flawlessly, feinting a horizontal strike towards the right man before pulling his arm back and thrusting his weapon behind his shield. The guard watched in horror as the blade twisted and was pulled back, relieving him of his shield. In panic, the guard struck at the lord's side, but the blow was easily parried, Chrom then slashed at his hand, wounding and disarming the man forcing him to retreat.

The leader and his remaining guard were cautious, but without the third brick in their wall Chrom managed to flank the two and brake their formation, and a flurry of blows saw the remaining guard stumbling backwards. The captain was several paces in front of Chrom, holding his staff in its offensive grip, the guard slight further behind him. Chrom, bolstered by his recent victory, charged forward lunging a safe distance with the blade.

The blow would never land. As Chrom brought down his sword the commander turned quickly, his cape obscuring Chrom's vision for a moment. When Chrom recovered the commander was gone, but his remaining guard was charging, both hands above his head preparing to bring his sword down on Chrom, who lifted his sword with a hand on each end of the blade to block the blow, sparks formed as their blades struck. The guard was strong, but even fatigued as he was, Chrom was stronger and the enemy's resistance waned quickly.

Then Chrom felt cold metal run across his throat.

"Check mate"

The bearer of the staff pulled back brutally, the jolt forcing Chrom to drop the sword. The weapon was trespassing into the flesh of his neck, blocking the airways of the lord who struggled futility against the hold. Chrom's hands were stuck above his head because of his staff and so he could only kick weakly as he felt the his energy falling quickly. The lord flailed wildly as spots swam across his vision, and right as he thought he would black out the hold broke suddenly and he fell to the ground, gasping for the much needed air.

His respite was short lived as a boot forced him further into the ground and he felt his hands forcefully tied behind his back, his shield was then roughly removed from his arm. All the while Chrom could do nothing but groan as the battle slipped between his fingers.

* * *

><p>The silver haired commander was the one to pry the Fire Emblem from the warrior-king's arms. "Where are the decoys?" he asked, directed to his soldiers. One came forward and handed him a sack, which he opened revealing several replicas of the emblem. After a short magical incantation each floated in the air, shortly joined by the actual one in his hands, and began a series of fast and complex movements before settling back into the hands of him and his four followers and each marched to the door. "Has everyone memorized their escape routes?" nods from all around answered his question.<p>

"Then lets-" he abruptly stopped moving before backpedaling cautiously, the sound of his sword being drawn echoed throughout the hallway as he pointed it towards the new arrival.

She was almost exactly the same as she was the day she fell from Castle Plegia, Her blond hair undisturbed, her regal attire peaceful, with a look of serene determination on her face. When Emmeryn spoke, it was soft, only a single word, but it held great power. "Stop."

The commander's calm composure reasserted itself before he responded. He spoke softly, but with aggression "You cannot stop me. The dead cannot do anything to save or doom the living. Now out of my way phantom."

"Your wrong. If we remember... them they will always save us" Her words were broken, but caused the soldiers to shuffle their feet uncomfortably. "I cannot stop you, but you can... stop yourself"

The commander responded "No! I cannot stop, not until my goal is complete! I cannot fail in my quest, I will not! I will not stop for mountains, armies gods, and not debating the merits of thievery with a ghost! I say again, out of the way!" his sword fell into an offensive position.

Emmeryn remained unmoved, neither tear nor fear on her face "You are hurt.. but you do not want to feel weak. You don't believe those things... your just mourning. Whatever happened to you wronged you badly... I am sorry. But you are not angry, or dangerous, just alone... and afraid" each word struck like a kick for the commander who began to spasm, his sword falling from his hand and his leg nearly buckling.

His vision again began to dim, his ears began to ring and his muscles began to move on their own desperate orders. His head nearly split with the force of her words. Everything was wrong, all wrong as he cursed the Gods silently, swearing in a manner that would give most sailors cause to flinch. What was happening? What was wrong? Why now of all times?

He was a stranger to the next few moments, his limbs moved on their own accord. All he knew was when he came to several seconds later, his blade was in his hand, leveled with the neck of the source of his distress. He remained still for a moment, his breath caught in his throat at the recent turn of events as the guards tried to yell frantically through their gags, as their large blue clad knight attempted to rise nearly arisen from his stupor, and the king shuddered on the floor.

Emmeryn remained still though, her eyes closed, serene and completely without fear, she waited for what felt like an eternity before she opened her eyes and saw the blade a hair from her neck. The commander wielding the blade had his mouth was pulled back in a grimace, holding his breath for a minute before withdrawing the sword entirely, placing it back in its sheath. Every occupant of the room released the breath they had been holding.

"I have yet to kill an innocent man." he stated, "I refuse to do so now, on something so trivial" he pushed past Emmeryn and began walking down the hall towards the exit.

Emmeryn was not finished though "Would the dead approve of this? You can still stop."

The commander did just that for a moment "The dead are dead, let them remain as such" he shook his head his voice filled with a well concealed sorrow "I cannot stop. I am doing what I must. I cannot falter while all eyes are on me, else the consequences would be far too dire." He rose a hand motioning forward, and his four men followed after a brief pause "If you believe your cause more just, find me and defeat me. May the Fire Emblem find its way into the hands of the most worthy."

And so the false knight left, the Fire Emblem separated from its rightful guardian. Chrom on the floor, bound and drifting between sleep and wake, Frederick slowly rising, and Emmeryn bringing her healing staff forward to help heal the fallen. There was a sullen silence within the hallways, there was no doubt of what had transpired.

A challenged had been issued.

A great power had changed hands.

A war had begun.

_End of the Prologue Arc_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**I have yet to explain how the story will proceed formatting wise. **

** So far I have four arcs planned, as well as this prologue arc and a brief two-three chapter long epilogue arc. Unlike many stories already on the website all arcs will be isolated to a single story. The division of the story is mostly symbolic to a significant shift in occurrences, and most of the time a shot time skip, as well as a 2-3 week break period in which I will write chapters in advance.**

** As far as the next arc is concerned, chapters will remain posted on a weekly basis with the next chapter posted next weekend. Thankfully plot wise I will be standing on somewhat sturdier ground, allowing for longer (hopefully much longer) chapters. So far there are around eight chapters in the next arc (this is subject to change as I am condensing and adding content), and more answers. If the chapter I will be posting next week is any indication their chapters will be from 4000 to 5000 words long. **

** Future battles will most likely not be explained in this much detail. I merely had to set groundwork for our anti-hero's fighting style and had to find a way to drag out the battle to squeeze as much info about him as possible into this chapter. This is of course my fic, and more so my first fighting scene, so I apologize if it is somewhat lacking in quality.**

**And because I am paranoid:**

**I, _, concede that I have no ownership in Fire Emblem Awakening or any related products in the franchise. All rights to the Fire Emblem Awakening Universe belong to Nintendo, and I only own rights to my original characters and the plot of this story.**

**Please review and leave constructive criticism.**


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